


Cohesion

by fuzipenguin



Category: The A-Team (2010)
Genre: Anxiety, Belly Rubs, Fluff, Gen, Hair Brushing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 16:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11188995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Despite what he says, Murdock doesn't suddenly become sane after getting shot in the head. Rather, Face learns that it just adds to Murdock's already existing issues.





	Cohesion

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill the following prompts at the LJ comm a_team_kink:  
> \- Tummy kissing and/or rubbing by to_special_hell  
> \- Brushing Murdock's hair by to_special_hell  
> \- There was also a prompt somewhere earlier on in the meme that I just can't find which I believe wanted to see how the boys escaped. 
> 
> Originally posted to my livejournal on 8-10-10. Heavily edited to post here.

               Triumph can only get Face so far. Exhaustion sets in pretty fast, followed immediately by guilt once he sees how slowly Murdock is recovering. The poor guy got shot in the _head_ , regardless of the Kevlar. He barely manages a shaky smile when BA plays doctor, mimicking the Mexican hospital all those years ago. That alone should have been enough to spark banter between the two of them. But Murdock just sits there, hunched over, and looks around blankly.

                When the MPs surround them, Face sees that empty expression turn quickly into panic. Murdock _has_ to be thinking of the psychiatric ward he’d been out of for only a few days. Thankfully he’s too tired to put up a real fight, and Hannibal is ever the voice of reason. But when it’s just the four of them in the back of the transport, Murdock sags again, bitter and betrayed. It hurts Face to the core; over the past six months he’d sorely missed that mischievous light in his best friend’s eyes and now it’s been extinguished.   

                There’s no doubt in Face’s mind that they have to escape again, because Murdock cannot be entrusted back into that system, not when it’s failed him, failed _them_ , so many times.

                It takes a bit of maneuvering since their hands are cuffed behind their backs, but Murdock is skinny and limber and even though he ends up on the floor of the van with scrapes around his wrists, he manages to wriggle his butt and then his legs through the circle of his arms until they are in front of them.

                “Good job, Murdock,” Hannibal says as Murdock grabs the key from Face and begins unlocking his own restraints. Face and Hannibal exchange glances after seeing Murdock practically shine from the praise. It shouldn’t take something so simple, but Murdock has always craved affirmation and affection. The latest turn of events will make that need that much worse.

                Their hands are free in short order and from there, it’s easy. Face picks the lock and they jump from the van when it’s slowing down before an intersection. They get a few new bruises in the process but no one is the wiser. Big mistake in not giving the transport an escort in the rear.

                BA hotwires an old station wagon they find behind a gas station, and they begin heading east. Both Hannibal and Face have stashes of cash at bus depot and train station lockers and within two hours of their escape, they have a change in clothes, another vehicle, and a Plan.

                “For now, we’ll just get some distance between us and LA,” Hannibal tells them from the front passenger seat, teeth clamped tight around a cigar. “We’ll find someplace nondescript, hole up and get some rest. We all need it,” he says, eyeing the bags under Face’s eyes, Murdock’s general twitchiness, and BA’s slight tremble of his hands on the steering wheel.

                “And then?” BA asks, glancing sidelong at the colonel.

                “One thing at a time, BA,” Hannibal replies. BA grunts and turns his attention back to the road, while Face nibbles on the skin around his thumb. That either means Hannibal has no idea what to do next, or the following steps are so elaborate, they’ll need a dry erase board and lot of markers. Neither option reassures Face.

                 They drive through the night and into the next day, Face and Hannibal each taking a turn at the wheel. Murdock protests that he could drive too, but Hannibal nixes that idea when he sees how poorly the pilot’s eyes are focusing. High velocity bullets at close range have not done Murdock any favors, despite his earlier claims of sanity.

                 When Face almost falls asleep at the wheel around three the next afternoon, Hannibal directs him to a hotel along the highway in Sante Fe, New Mexico. The town is large, with plenty of other hotels and tourists to hide out among, and they check in without difficulty. 

                 It’s a Days Inn, and money isn’t a problem, but Face gets them a single room with two queen-sized beds.  No one objects when they enter the room; no one wants to be separated from the others.

                 Face immediately calls dibs on the shower, while Murdock crawls onto the farthest bed, hugs a pillow to his chest and appears to fall asleep immediately.

                 “Damn fool didn’t even take his shoes off,” BA says, too tired to mask the fondness in his tone as he starts unlacing Murdock’s sneakers. Face smiles at the protective gesture; BA plays at hating Murdock, but they all know he’d take a bullet for the other man in a heartbeat.

                 “I’m going to go grab some food from that Wendy’s across the street,” Hannibal informs BA, taking a look at himself in the mirror before reaching for the doorknob. “Keep an eye on things. And make sure Face doesn’t fall asleep in the shower.”

                 Face pauses in the doorway of the bathroom and sticks his tongue out at Hannibal’s back. Not that there isn’t some truth in the words. Now that they’re stationary, he feels an all-encompassing lassitude that makes it hard to stay on his feet.

                 By the time Hannibal gets back, Face is out of the shower, and BA has taken his place. Hannibal walks through the door and catches Face leaning over Murdock and smoothing the hair back from his face. Face greets Hannibal with a small nod and covers Murdock up with the throw from the end of the bed. He eagerly joins Hannibal at the small table where he’s pulling food items out of several paper bags. Face hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until the smell of grease hit his nostrils.

                “He ok?” Hannibal asks, shooting a glance at their pilot.

                Face frowns around a mouthful of fries. “He’s forming a doozy of a bruise on the side of his face where the bullet impacted. We know he has a concussion; I never really thought about things like skull fractures, but now I’m coming up with all kinds of worst case scenarios.”

                “Hmm. Let him rest for now. We’ll wake him up every few hours to check for worsening symptoms. That was Kevlar from four separate vests,” Hannibal says, sitting at one of the too small desk chairs and taking a sip from his drink. “I don’t think we need worry about brain bleeds and all that, but let’s keep a close eye on him, just in case.”

                BA emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, huge and wreathed in steam like some sort of mystical dragon. He comes over and grabs a burger and begins to wolf it down. “Never thought fast food could taste so good,” he murmurs, and Face can’t help but laugh because the small hamburger is gone in nearly two bites, and BA is already reaching for another.

                They don’t talk about much, just idle chit chat about their stolen car, the food, the hotel… anything but what’s been going on and what’s going to happen. No one wants to go there just yet. Not until they’ve had several hours of sleep first.

                Face begins placing food aside for Murdock and then pauses, head cocked to the side when he hears an odd sound. He turns around to stare across the room and frowns when he sees Murdock twitching erratically, like a sleeping dog chasing a rabbit. He hears the noise again and realizes that that pitiful, breathy whimper is coming from his best friend. Face’s heart twinges again. As if Murdock didn’t already have enough nightmare material.

                BA is closest, as he’s sitting on the edge of the other bed. He stands up and leans over Murdock, calling his name quietly. When that doesn’t get a response, he places a hand on Murdock’s shoulder to shake him awake, but the mere contact is enough to have Murdock sitting bolt upright, grabbing at Bosco’s wrist.

                “Hey, man, it’s just me,” BA says, standing very still while Murdock looks around wildly. His eyes blink rapidly up at the large man, and when Murdock recognizes him, the pilot sheepishly releases BA.

                “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake anybody,” he mumbles, carding a shaky hand through his hair.

                “You didn’t. We were eating. You want something?” Face asks, waving the Wendy’s bag in Murdock’s direction.

                Murdock shakes his head and then winces. “No, I… no, maybe later,” he says and slides off the bed to make his way into the bathroom. He stumbles a bit and doesn’t quite walk in a straight line, but sometimes Murdock does that even on the best of days. A few moments later, they hear the shower start up again.

                BA turns to look at Hannibal, frowning. “He don’t look so good, man.”

                “He’ll be all right. Some rest and some food, and he’ll be back to normal. Well, normal for Murdock, anyway.”

                Face looks at the food in his hand and then carefully piles it into one of the bags and places it off to the side. He hopes that Hannibal is right. They don’t have a lot of options available if Murdock is more than bruised and concussed.

                BA and Hannibal decide to share the bed closest to the door, and soon BA’s soft snores are filling the room. Hannibal takes a little longer to head to bed; he keeps glancing at his watch and then the bathroom door.

                “I got it, Hannibal. Go to sleep,” Face finally says, getting up and knocking on the closed door. The shower has been running for almost thirty minutes now, highly unusual for them unless Face is on a beauty regimen.  

                A few seconds after the knock, Face hears a mumbled reply, muffled by the sounds of the water, and then the shower shuts off. “You ok in there, buddy?”

                The door cracks a little, and Murdock stands there dripping, a towel wrapped around his waist and strands of hair falling in his eyes. “Yeah. Think I lost track of time. Sorry,” he says, eyes downcast.

                “Hey man, don’t worry about it. Just making sure you didn’t fall asleep in there. I almost did,” Face says with a reassuring smile.

                “No, didn’t fall asleep. I’ll be out in just a minute, k?” Murdock says and shuts the door again. Face states at it bemusedly for a second and then sits on their bed, turning on the television, but muting it as he flips through channels. Hannibal’s finally passed out next to BA and while Face doesn’t think either of them will wake unless they’re under attack, he doesn’t want to chance it.

                Murdock is true to his word and emerges shortly after, clad in a new, white T-shirt and Spiderman boxers. His hair is still damp and sticking up in every direction. At that moment, Face thinks Murdock looks very young and lost.  

                He sits down next to Face and dazedly stares at the TV. “Anything good on?” Murdock asks.

                 “Naw. Man, your hair looks ridiculous,” Face tells him, unable to stop the grin that forms at the sight.

                Murdock absently pats at it, making things worse. “Sorry.”

                “Don’t be sorry,” Face says, slightly exasperated. Murdock’s been saying that word a lot today, and it’s starting to worry Face. Murdock is not one to say sorry for his day to day behavior; when he starts apologizing for every little thing, it normally means his head is in the wrong place. “Here, don’t move, I’ll be right back,” Face says, getting an idea. He pushes himself off the bed and heads into the still damp bathroom.

                He finds what he’s looking for quickly and comes back into the room to see that Murdock hasn’t moved an inch. Face kneels on the bed behind him, and starts threading his comb through the other man’s hair. In the mirror above the TV, Face watches Murdock’s eyes slip closed and can see some of the tension ease out of him as he leans back against Face’s knees.

                “Gonna have to get you a haircut soon,” Face murmurs quietly, fingering the ends that tickle the nape of Murdock’s neck. Murdock doesn’t answer, apparently lulled into complacence.

                Face continues to comb through Murdock’s hair even after it’s free of tangles. Not only is it soothing to Murdock, but Face also finds himself comforted by the mundane activity. In a few more minutes Face rouses himself from his light stupor to see that Murdock is listing to the side, practically asleep. Just as he’s about to nudge Murdock into lying down, the other man jerks upright with a gasp. Face lets the comb fall to the bed and grips Murdock’s trembling shoulders.

               “What’s wrong? Murdock?”

               Murdock looks back at Face, expression stricken. “I keep hearing the gun going off. Every time I close my eyes. Keep seeing, well, _not_ seeing, because I couldn’t see, and it was really dark and stuffy, and hot in there, and we really should have thought to make some breathing holes or something, cuz I almost passed out before…”

               “Murdock, hey. Come on, it’s ok. It’s over, you’re fine, just breathe,” Face says, trying to soothe his friend.

               Murdock takes a deep breath and then lets it out through his nostrils. It seems to steady him somewhat, but Face can still feel him shaking. “I don’t want to go to sleep,” Murdock whispers, brokenly. He turns back around to stare at his hands in his lap, rubbing fitful little patterns into his cloth covered thighs.

               Face instinctively slides his arms around his friend, leaning his chin on Murdock’s shoulder. One hand grasps Murdock’s opposite upper arm; the other ends up on Murdock’s belly, and he rubs soothing little circles over the man’s abdomen, like one would a spooked horse. Murdock sags in Face’s embrace, leaning back against him.  

               “You need to rest, Murdock,” Face says quiety. “It’s over. You’re safe, we’re safe. It’s over,” he repeats. He gives it a second and then releases Murdock only to tug on his shoulders. “Come on, you don’t have to sleep, just lay down.”

               Murdock opens his mouth to protest, but doesn’t say a word once he sees Face’s unyielding expression. Sighing, he scoots up the bed and lies on his back. Face settles down next to him, close enough to brush fingers over the other man’s wrist.

               They lay like for several minutes, just staring at the ceiling. The television is still on, flickering images at the edge of his vision. Murdock’s breathing has calmed down, but Face can still feel him radiating tenseness.

               “Facey?” Murdock asks suddenly.  

               “Yeah?”

               “Could you… could you rub my tummy like you were doing before?” he asks shyly.

               Face rolls over and sees Murdock biting his lower lip, eyes averted. Face can’t help his fond smile.

               “Have I told you that I’ve missed you?” Face asks, dropping a hand on Murdock’s belly and resuming the small, soothing circles he had used earlier. Murdock finally meets Face’s eyes, gaze adoring. Then his eyelids slip closed, and he slides a few inches closer to Face.

               “I’ve missed you too, Facey,” Murdock murmurs, turning and scooting across the bed until his back is flush against Face’s chest. Murdock snuggles down into his pillow and in a few minutes is lying completely boneless, peacefully asleep beneath Face’s arm.

               Face continues the soothing motion of his hand as long as he can, but exhaustion finally catches up to him. Reassured that he’s surrounded by his family and finally safe, for now at least, he falls asleep as well, clutching Murdock close.

 

 ~ End


End file.
